River (5 Stars)

River (2023), directed by Junta Yamaguchi and written by Makoto Ueda, is a time-loop drama set almost entirely inside and around the Fujiya inn in Kibune, near Kyoto. The film begins with waitress Mikoto (Riko Fujitani) standing by the river outside the inn, briefly lost in her thoughts, before returning to work. Two minutes later, time abruptly resets and she finds herself back at the same spot. This reset repeats over and over, trapping the staff and guests inside an endlessly looping present.

The narrative unfolds as a chain of two-minute segments, each filmed as a single unbroken take. The camera follows Mikoto through corridors, kitchens and dining rooms, gliding between characters as they slowly realise that time is no longer moving forward. At first, only Mikoto notices the repetition, but soon the other staff members and guests become aware that they retain their memories across loops.

Each character’s arc develops through tiny variations within the same physical movements. Mikoto starts as a polite, reserved employee who suppresses her own desires in favour of routine. As the loops continue, she grows more assertive, openly expressing frustration and eventually confronting her feelings for Taku, the quiet cook. Taku, initially withdrawn and hesitant, gradually finds confidence, using the loops to speak more honestly and take emotional risks he would normally avoid.

The inn’s owner and senior staff begin in denial, clinging to professionalism and structure even as reality collapses. Over time, their composure cracks, revealing anxiety about responsibility and control. A novelist staying at the inn, paralysed by creative block, first treats the loop as an inconvenience, then as a perverse gift; the repetition forces him to reflect on his avoidance of meaningful decisions. Other guests reveal small but telling shifts, turning impatience into cooperation and self-interest into shared problem-solving.

The single-take structure is crucial to these arcs. Because the camera never cuts, the audience experiences growth not through plot twists but through altered behaviour; a line delivered sooner, a glance held longer, a decision made instead of postponed. The repetition highlights how small changes accumulate, mirroring the characters’ internal transformations.

As the group works together to understand the cause of the loop, their individual arcs converge into a collective one. What begins as confusion and irritation becomes empathy and mutual reliance. By the time the loop finally breaks, the resolution feels less like a scientific solution and more like an emotional one; the characters have learned how to move forward by confronting what they had been quietly avoiding all along.